


seek out comfort.

by neottious (Fawxy)



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics), Nightwing (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Affection, Fluff, Gen, Kinda, M/M, Multi, Sharing Clothes, stealing clothes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2016-02-07
Packaged: 2018-05-18 21:12:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5943241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fawxy/pseuds/neottious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If those are the nights where the nightmares are pushed away, where he sleeps throughout the night, where he wakes up feeling happy for once, Damian doesn’t let it show. At least, not outright.</p>
            </blockquote>





	seek out comfort.

**Author's Note:**

> im on tumblr!!  
> http://neottious.tumblr.com/

It started slowly. 

Dick looked _everywhere_ for his favorite sweatshirt. 

The dark, faded navy object was almost a part of Dick, with how much he wore it. It’s not liked he misplaced it, it’s always in the same spot on his dresser! Maybe Alfred decided it was time for a wash, or one of his brothers took it to play a practical joke on him (it wouldn’t be the first time somebody filled it with itching powder, much to Dick’s dismay.)

He could question Alfred or his brothers later, but he had to go meet Barbara to go over last night’s patrol.

By the time he gets back to the manor, he forgets all about the sweatshirt. That is, until it shows back up in its original spot. He questions everyone in the house, and yet, no answer. Obviously, someone is lying. 

* * *

Jason never stays the night at the manor anymore, this is common knowledge in the family. But the fact that he’s bleeding, sore, and exhausted might change that, only for tonight. Alfred brings him spare clothes (the saint that he is, always having extra clothes) and takes the bloodied ones to put in the washing machine. 

After waking up from a short nap, he sees a note on the bedside table next to him. Alfred’s writing. “Your clothes are on the dryer,” in perfect cursive. 

When he makes his way to the laundry room, he hears another door in the manor close. Not thinking much of it, he ignores it in place of picking his clothes from the folded pile. Except, he can’t find his jacket. Mentally checking off a list in his head, he counts his undershirt, cargo pants, and his armor is in the batcave. All that’s missing was his jacket. Alfred was probably already sleep, and he’s not going to wake him up just to help him find a jacket he can just replace anyway. Jason shrugs it off, taking the remaining clothes he has and changing into them, leaving the loaned clothes from Alfred. Like hell he’s going to spend the full night here. 

He breaks and uses a window as an exit, just to be a pain.

The jacket finds its way home eventually, he finds. Jason steps into his safe house a few weeks later to find glass everywhere, due to a broken window. On the floor was his jacket. 

* * *

Tim isn’t stupid. Every time he sees Dick, he’s looking around the manor for something, coming up to Tim and always asking “Hey, have you seen my-” and if Tim didn’t have access to the camera system, he would suspect he was just using missing objects as an excuse to start a conversation.

Like he said, if he _didn’t_ have access. 

But he does, so he sits in front of the camera control center in the cave, and sees the smallest of shadows moving out of the corner of the camera’s vision. Damian obviously knows the weak points of the camera already. Too bad Tim knows exactly what to look for now. 

He watches as Damian moves under the camera, the only sign of his being there is the split second that he makes a run for it. Going for Tim’s door. He thought about locking it, but the idea of humiliating the youngest of his siblings was too good to pass up. 

The door slips open just a crack, a shadow passes through, and it closes again. Tim leans back and changes the monitors camera setting to view his room. This time, Damian doesn’t feel the need to sneak around. Tim watches as he looks around the room, before his eyes settled on Tim’s closet door. 

Tim straightened in his computer chair, hand hovering over the intercom button to scare (see: humiliate) the small boy.

Damian takes a few steps toward the closet, but stops halfway. Tim furrows his brows as Damian stands completely still, almost like he was listening to something. 

Tim didn’t see him pull something out of his pocket before it was too late. Damian swiveled to face the corner where the camera was placed, and threw something quickly.

The screen became fuzzy, white and black is all he can see.  _God. Damn. Batarangs._

Slamming his hand down on the intercom, Tim yells out “ _DAMIAN!_ ” as he listens to the tell tale sound of his closet door swinging open, and his room door being closed. 

By the time he makes it to his room, the door is swung wide open, and his favorite sweatpants were taken. Banging on Damian’s door wouldn’t do anything. Neither would barging into his room. Giving up before he even tried, Tim let Damian win this round.

When he woke up the next day, the sweatpants were hanging from his doorknob. He checked it inside and out for itching power or anything devious, and yet, there was nothing. Still, he wasn’t going to risk wearing it. He dumped it back into his closet to deal with later. For now, he was going to plan his revenge.

* * *

 

Damian would never let anyone know directly. Drake had just gotten lucky (and then unlucky,) when he caught him taking his articles of clothing.

But just because Drake saw him in the action of stealing it, doesn’t mean he knows why. 

Comfort, obviously.

He’s not weak, he doesn’t need physical affection like the others. Damian can go his whole life without touching another human being affectionately. That’s what he tells himself, as he falls asleep in Grayson’s hoodie, swimming in the fabric. ‘ _It’s smart to have the sleeves covering my hands, what if there’s a fire in the manor? Then I can touch doorknobs to escape. And obviously, I am only covering my nose with the neckline, not smelling it, there could be smoke I could possibly inhale.’_ At least, that’s what he tells himself.

He doesn’t need comfort from other human beings. Warmth, yes, but that’s because humans need warmth. ‘ _The manor is cold enough to freeze in, if I am not careful.’_ Damian thinks to himself, pressing his face against the leather of Todd’s jacket.  _‘This is for survival reasons.’_ He lies.

He doesn’t want to even feel other people’s presence. He needs tactile sensations, obviously. Falling asleep with Tim’s sweatpant’s fabric between his fingers is normal. He always falls asleep with tactile fabric near him. ‘ _I am only doing this for sensory reasons.’_

If those are the nights where the nightmares are pushed away, where he sleeps throughout the night, where he wakes up feeling happy for once, Damian doesn’t let it show. At least, not outright.

But his brothers catch on and know the truth when they can’t find their favorite pieces of clothes.


End file.
